


Hazte Salvaje

by theprosefool



Series: Prompts [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Banter, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Sports, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:18:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprosefool/pseuds/theprosefool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Vega, star wrestler, has been tutoring varsity swimmer Steve Cortez in Spanish for months now.  But when James decides to give him a different kind of lesson, things take an interesting turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazte Salvaje

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theearthbendingbiotic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theearthbendingbiotic/gifts).



> Based off a prompt on Tumblr: Uhm, can you do a Cortega high school AU where James is a wrestler and Steve is a swimmer and they bicker about which sport is better, and then James uses his wrestling moves on Steve and they have hot, dirty sex? Ehehehehehe…
> 
> I honestly don't know anything about sports. I bullshitted my way through this story. It was fun, though!

“But it’s so  _boring_.”

Steve blanched, as much at the words as at the harsh burn of alcohol in his throat.  “Have you ever actually  _been_  to a swim meet?”

“Well… no.”  James shrugged as he swiped the bottle of mescal, stolen from his uncle’s liquor cabinet.  “But how exciting can it be?  You’re swimming in a straight line.”

“As fast and steady as you can go, trying to finish before everyone else.  It’s not as easy as you might think, Mr. Vega.”

James frowned up at him from his spot in the grass, sprawled out in the middle of his uncle’s backyard where they’d been sitting for over an hour now, staring up at the cloudy night sky as they talked and laughed and drank, a new tradition that followed each of their tutoring sessions.  The only light they had came from the distant street lamps, but Steve’s eyes had adjusted well enough to grant him the perfect view of the wrestler’s tan, muscled stomach where his shirt had been rucked up.

“Mr. Vega?”

Steve was so distracted by the strip of skin that he almost forgot what he’d said.  “Huh?  Oh.  Because you’re such a good teacher.  What, would you prefer ‘professor’?”

“How about ‘sensei’?”

“Hmmmm….  Don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

James shifted his leg and their knees knocked together, sending a jolt of electricity through Steve’s body.  “Whatever, Esteban.  It’s a race.  In water.  I don’t get the big deal.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he snatched the booze back.  “And wrestling’s so great?”

“Hell yeah, it is!”

“Two sweaty men in spandex, trying to pin each other?”  He took a swig, still cringing at the burn in his throat.  “Seems a little… gay.”

Guy like James, he’d half expected some macho display to prove his straightness, at least a firm denial.  He didn’t expect the wide grin and the brief but deliberate hand on his arm that he got instead.  “Then it should be right up your alley, eh, Esteban?”

He thanked the night for hiding his blush - or maybe it was just the heat flush of alcohol, he wasn’t sure.  ”Maybe it is.”  He passed the bottle back, letting his hand linger a bit longer than needed when their fingers touched.  ”But it’s still a lame sport.”

"What? It is not!"

"It’s so… primitive."

"And swimming isn’t?"

Steve shook his head.  ”It’s  _visceral_ , not primitive.”

“Ooo, big word, Esteban.  You’re lucky this  _primitive_  has been studying for the SATs.”  He set the bottle aside and rolled to his feet - a movement far too smooth for someone of his size and after so much booze - to offer a hand to Steve.  “Come on.  I’m gonna show you a thing or two about visceral.”

James’ hand was so warm and perfect in his as Steve let him drag him to his feet that he had to force himself to let go when he was finally steady.  James moved to stand behind him, so close he could feel the wrestler’s warmth through their clothing and his breath on the back of his neck.

“Hands and knees.”

A shiver ran through him, a thrill he couldn’t control as he obeyed.  James knelt too, behind him and a little to the side, and plastered his chest against Steve’s back, one arm looping around the smaller man’s torso in a tight hold, his chin resting between Steve’s shoulder blades.  He was hot, even through the layers of fabric.  “It’s not just about  _pinning_  the other guy.  It’s about power.  Keeping control of your opponent.  And more importantly, knowing how to break his control on you.”  The arm gave a little squeeze.  “Think you can do it?”

“M-maybe.”  He tried to push to his feet, but the wrestler’s bulk weighed him down.  Tried to turn right, but was blocked by one meaty arm.  Tried to throw James off-balance with an elbow against his ribs, but the man was a rock.  He sighed.  “Or maybe not.”

James’ rumbling laugh vibrated through Steve’s body to start a flutter in his gut, and suddenly he was flat on his back in the grass, pressed down by the full weight of the wrestler over him.  Impossibly strong hands pinned his wrists above his head as he wriggled, a half-assed attempt to free himself that only had him gasping at the friction.

“See?” James breathed, face mere inches from the swimmer’s.  “It becomes instinct.  It’s not about thinking; you’ve gotta feel your opponent, and your body has to know just how to move to counter him.  You have to trust your instincts.   _Hazte salvaje_.”

James’ lips were ever-closer, and Steve’s breath hitched in his throat - but then he laughed, setting the wrestler back in surprise.  “‘Savage’?  That’s practically the dictionary definition of ‘primitive,’ you big ape.”

“Fine then, know-it-all.”  James sat up, releasing his hold on Steve’s wrists.  “What makes swimming so gr - “

Steve silenced him in a rush of courage, sitting up to smash their mouths together, graceless and harsh and exactly what he’d been daydreaming about since the first day of Spanish class.  James must have  _felt_  him, had his counter ready, locked his hands behind Steve’s neck to pull him that much closer as his lips parted and his tongue darted out.  They tumbled back into the grass, James’ body half atop Steve’s, a knee pressed between his thighs to draw a moan from the smaller frame, and it was all so perfect that Steve forgot how to breathe until he was gasping for air.

James’ mouth didn’t stop working, just slid along his jaw and down his throat, and while Steve was distracted by the tongue laving at his pulse point, warm hands snaked up under the hem of his shirt to lay flat against skin.  Those hands were softer than Steve had expected, but powerful, curling around his sides in a grip that was close to pain but closer to pleasure.  Steve’s own hands slid down the broad expanse of back, venturing where they wouldn’t have dared without the influence of alcohol and lust and squeezing until James rocked his hips forward, and they were both groaning and both panting and  _feeling_  without  _thinking_  and _wanting wanting wanting_  -

“ _Hijo de puta_.”

The hot body over him was gone, and Steve was left with a chill as he blinked up at the black sky.  When he finally regained himself enough to push up onto his elbows, James was scrambling around the yard, snatching up candy wrappers and the bottle of mescal and shoving them into his backpack in a hurry.

“Was my breath that bad?”

James laughed as he slung his pack over his shoulder and held out a hand to Steve.  “So bad, I wanna do that again.  But my uncle’s home.”

A glance toward the house and Steve saw the lights were on.  Funny, he hadn’t noticed before.  “Oh.  Well, I should….”  He took the offered hand and James hauled him to his feet, putting their bodies in close proximity for one blissful second before the larger frame retreated.  “I should probably get home.”

“No, stay!  I mean… if you want to.  Still got a little while ‘til curfew, right?”

It was a bad idea.  He knew that.  It was late, and he was a little bit drunk, and if James was asking what Steve thought he was asking it was all going way too fast.  But James was biting his lip, the only nervous gesture Steve had ever seen from the wrestler, and he really just wanted those to be  _his_  teeth there….

“Yeah.  Okay.”

James grinned and turned back toward the house, Steve clambering to catch up with him.  They rushed through the living room and up the stairs, James pausing to throw a “Hey,  _tío_ ” at a closed door before ducking into his bedroom.

The second the door was closed behind him, Steve found himself pushed back against it, trapped by the larger man, hands gripping his hips and a thigh spreading his legs apart like a boy on one of those websites he wasn’t supposed to look at.  If the first kiss was rough, this one was desperate, starting a clawing in his chest and a fire in his belly and a tightness in his jeans.  His mouth opened on a moan, arms wrapping around the thick neck to keep James close, and before he knew what was happening James had his arms around him, lifted him up like he was made of paper and set him on the bed, straddling his hips.  His laugh was muffled against the other boy’s mouth and James let out a little growl in reply.

"What’s so funny?"

"Nothing.  Just thinking maybe wrestling’s not so bad."

He could feel the wrestler’s smirk against his lips, the pleased quirk he’d gotten so used to seeing but never felt before. “ _Hazte salvaje_ ,” the larger man murmured as a hand slid off Steve’s hip to cup him through his jeans.

“Oh….  James, that’s….”  He fell back on the bed and James followed him down, kissed him breathless before sitting up to work on his belt.  He blinked up at the ceiling, his mind finally catching up with his body.  This was happening.  James was tearing his belt off like he needed what was inside and Steve felt like a goddamn porn star, but this was fast, way faster than he’d ever gone.  He rested a hand over James’ on the button of his jeans, drawing the wrestler’s attention back to him.

“Something wrong?”

“Not exactly, I just….  I’m not usually this… easy.”

James sat back with a laugh, his weight settling on Steve’s thighs.  “Easy?  Esteban, I’ve been sending you signals for  _months_.  I was starting to think you weren’t interested.”

“ _What_?”  Steve pushed up onto his elbows to get a better look at the other boy, his honest eyes and earnest smile.  “But… you flirt with everyone!”

“Yeah, well….”  He shrugged, hands gripping Steve’s hips - no demands, just a simple touch.  “With you, I mean it.”

“Oh.”  Okay, then.  He nodded, and James was prying at the stubborn button, and all Steve could do was watch as the wrestler finally got the fabric open and reached inside.  “ _Oh_ ….”  Both of those massive hands wrapped around his length, slid from root to tip and back again to drag a groan from him as he collapsed back into the bed, hips surging upward for more delicious friction.  James was good at this.  Worryingly good, really, but he didn’t want to think where else those hands had been, didn’t want to think about anything but the exquisite pressure building all too quickly and the lips that sought his out, the thrumming in his chest and the hitch in his breath and the “ _Esteban_ ” mumbled against his mouth.

“James… I’m….”

He could feel that smirk again, sly and wicked, and it only pushed him closer to the edge.  “Good.  Let go, Esteban.”

A few more strokes and he did, body arching up into the one atop him as he crested the peak of pleasure with a whimper muffled by an eager tongue.  James’ hands slowed, gentling him through the aftershocks until he was spent and panting, every muscle turned to jelly beneath the wrestler’s weight.  He sighed content, one arm encircling James’ shoulders while the other hand slid down his body to the bulge in the behemoth’s trousers, gave it a few firm strokes….

“Oh, shit.”  His phone was buzzing in his pocket, not an unpleasant feeling but he knew what it meant.  He  shoved at James’ shoulder until the larger man rolled off him, brows raised in question.  “I’ve got to go.  Curfew’s in a few minutes.”

James groaned.  “Really?  Now?  That’s just low.”

Steve grinned, flung a leg over James’ thick thighs to straddle his lap, and pressed his lips to the wrestler’s temple.  “Sorry.  Guess you’ll just have to take care of this one yourself.  But next time, I’m going to show you just what’s so great about swimming.”

“Swimming?  What does swimming have to do wi - “

He silenced him with a kiss, a soft press of skin on skin with none of the urgency this time.  When he pulled back, James was silent, eyes wide and dark with surprise and lust.  Steve leaned forward to nip at an earlobe, hum into the wrestler’s ear.  “Guess how long I can hold my breath for?”

The moan that James released shot a tremor up Steve’s spine as he pulled away and collected himself, lingered in his mind as he made his way home through the darkened streets and as he drifted off to peaceful, sated sleep.

 _There was going to be a next time_.


End file.
